Playing The Game
by three-days-late
Summary: Alfred Jones: Special Task Force Leader. Ivan Braginski: Russian Mob Boss. Lovino Vargas: Italian Mob Boss. They know the players; they know all the rules, but what happens when someone new enters their little game? Rules change, that's what.
1. The Heroes

**Alistine is helping me edit this, since a lot (all) of you mentioned my atrocious spelling and other grammar mistakes in one form or another. Hopefully now it will be even better and I'll be able to get the next chapter up.  
**

**As far as pairings go, it's looking like some Austria/Hungary, Spain/Romano, and America/Vietnam for now, but it's entirely possible to bring in more at this point and not completely mess anything up, so we'll see how it goes.**

**Side-note: Any and all non-English languages I use are mostly from online translations, so if I make an error feel free to point it out and I'll fix it.  
**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 9:05AM. Police Headquarters, Temporary Headquarters.**

Alfred F. Jones strode into the police office like he owned the place, and as the head of the special mafia division, he kind of did.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the legal boss, so when their base had been blown up by the Russians, he and his team had been forced (allowed) to relocate to a meeting room in the back of the police station. The Chief hadn't been too happy about sharing his building with Alfred and his squad, but until a new mafia division HQ could be built, none of them had much of a choice.

Alfred burst into the room and shouted a jovial "Good morning!" to his team. The four-man (pardon, four-_person_) team glanced up at him before immediately returning to whatever they were doing before.

The team consisted of three men (including Mr. Jones) and one woman, all of whom where the best of the best. Ludwig was Alfred's second, an introverted German man. He would often criticize Alfred's leadership, but would always get the job done in the most efficient way possible. He was the go-to guy for the Russian mafia, as he seemed to know the organization inside and out…although, now that Alfred thought about it, he didn't even know the man's last name. Actually, there was a lot he didn't know about Ludwig, but it didn't really matter.

Francis Bonnefoy was a rather flirtatious, very perverted, French man who hit on the mob members more often then he actually fought them. Alfred didn't care, as he always eventually got the job done, and there was no one outside the Italian mafia who knew more about them, but it did seem to put the rest of the team on edge.

Berwald Oxenstierna was a rather scary looking Swedish man who rarely spoke more than three words a day. It was one of Alfred's favorite pastimes to try and get some sort of reaction by annoying the hell out of him, but he'd only ever gotten a punch in the face for his troubles. He was still pretty new to the force when the Chief put him on his team, but he was extremely level-headed in the toughest situations and probably the best interrogator in the precinct. Alfred had asked why he wanted to join the mafia division once, but all he had gotten out of the man was, "Looking for someone."

Elizaveta Héderváry was the final member of their little team. She was a bright, headstrong young Hungarian woman who was always the first one on the scene (unless Alfred got there first). Before moving over to the mafia division from the homicide department, she had the most arrests out of anyone else on the payroll; if a case had more than one body, it was automatically hers. She had an unfortunate habit of assuming that two random people were in love with each other (even though half the time she was right, the other half, well…), and it should be noted that she preferred bashing culprits on the head with a frying pan over firing her weapon.

Alfred walked over to the coffee machine (that he made absolutely sure they had put in when they commandeered the room) to get his first morning cup before turning to glare at the two pictures on the chalk board on the other side of the room, a daily tradition of his.

The picture on the left side of the board, where Ludwig was currently scribbling, was of the head of the Russian mafia, a big, pale man with violet eyes and light blonde hair called Ivan Braginski. Alfred and Ivan actually went to the same school as kids, but their paths had taken two completely different directions. He was a master of torture and espionage and had single-handedly made the Russian mafia the force to be reckoned with that they were today.

The picture on the right side, which mostly had a flow chart and a bunch of X's on it right now, was of the head of the Italian mafia, Lovino Vargas, a rather unimpressive-looking man with bright green eyes and dark brown hair. He had gained control the 'family business' six months earlier, after his grandfather, Roma Vargas, died in a shoot-out. He seemed to have inherited his grandfather's "shoot first, ask later" approach and unfeeling attitude, but not his drive; since taking over, he hadn't been seen anywhere, even on hits where his presence was not only specifically requested, but usually required.

Alfred sighed before taking another sip of coffee and scanning the room. "Alright, what do we got today?"

Francis produced a note from somewhere and handed it to Alfred. "Your brother has been kidnapped. This was found on his desk."

"Oh, poor Matt," Elizaveta commented. "You really should keep a better watch on him, Alfred. This is what, the third time this month?"

"I would if it was necessary, but he can take care of himself."

"How do you figure that? The poor boy is taken more than-"

"If this is some random sex joke…" Elizaveta interrupted.

"And if it is, _ma cheri_?" His answer was a frying pan to the face.

"Matt'll be fine. He's not dead yet."

"It only takes one shot to kill a man," Ludwig added. "This could be Herr Williams' last kidnapping."

"Don't be so morbid. He's tougher than he looks…or acts." Which was true. Alfred's brother (really half brother, but no one cared for such details) Matthew Williams was head of the homicide division. He had moved down from Montreal three years earlier because, apparently, there aren't very many murders in Canada, and he felt his services were best used elsewhere. He was very shy and usually went unnoticed, even by his own subordinates, but when the different mafias did remember that he existed, they often tried to use him to mess around with Alfred.

"Who is it this time? I hope it's the Italians…"

"_Ja,_ a lead of some kind to Lovino's location would be nice."

"Actually, I just wanted some Italian tonight." Ludwig took the liberty of smacking his boss on the back of his head.

"I do not think so, _mon ami_, unless the Italians are now using Chinese for code."

"China what now?" Alfred looked at the note in his hand and saw the strange letters running up and down the page.

"I think it's Japanese," Elizaveta said as she snatched the note. "There's some hiragana mixed in with the kanji."

"So the Italians are using Japanese for code?" Alfred asked, puzzled. "Why?"

"It could be the Russians," Ludwig added, "but that still makes no sense. Why send a note in Japanese to someone you know does not speak the language?"

The five of them stared at the baffling note for about a minute before Berwald said, "Yakuza," as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yakuza? Here?" Alfred shook his head. "They operate on the West Coast. They wouldn't come here."

"Unless they are planning on expanding…" Francis said, thoughtful for once.

"It would explain why the note is in a language they know we cannot understand," Ludwig added, "so we know they are here."

Elizaveta looked at her boss. "So, what does this mean?"

Alfred looked at the note again before placing it on the table in the center of the room and responding, "It means that a new player has entered, and completely changed the game."

_And we better find them soon…_


	2. The Good, the Bad, and the Awesome

**Wednesday, October 15: 9:10AM. Kremlin Manor, Ivan's Office.**

Ivan Braginski was a man of simple pleasures. He enjoyed sunflowers, vodka, watching Mr. Jones and his team run in circles attempting to capture him, the screams and tears of his fallen foes, spending time with his sisters (both of them at the same time though; if he had one of them by herself, then things get rather painful), spending time with his subordinates (whether they wanted to or not), and he had recently taken an interest in figure skating.

Among the things Ivan didn't enjoy so much was the snow that seemed to follow him everywhere, Mr. Jones, the Italian mafia stealing his turf, Mr. Jones, the law, traitors in his organization, Mr. Jones, his sister's constant marriage proposals, new competition popping up out of nowhere to steal his business, and Mr. Jones, but at this particular moment, the new competition thing was at the top of his list.

"Toris," Ivan looked up at the young man with an innocent smile that made the brunette flinch, "are you sure this is correct?"

"Y-yes. Eduard handed it to me j-just now."

"I see. You are dismissed. Bring Gilbert to me, yes?"

"R-right away Mr. Braginski." Toris wasted no time in getting the hell out of there. After working with Ivan for so many years, he had learned to recognize when the Russian was in a good mood and when he wasn't. This was one of those times when he was not.

Toris Lorinaitis wasn't exactly sure how or why he got caught up in the Russian mafia, all he knew was that one day he was running a small business with his friend Feliks Łukasiewicz, and the next Feliks ended up murdered and Toris was the prime suspect. Everyone had been ready to label him murderer except for Officer Jones, who at the time was still working a desk job. Officer Jones had fought very hard for Toris's sake, but it was all for naught, as he was pronounced guilty and had an execution date set.

That was when Ivan walked into his life. Ivan offered him his protection from the cold, unfeeling arm of the law in exchange for a life time of service. Fearing death and seeing no other way out, Toris eagerly took the Russian's offer no questions asked. Later Toris had found out that Feliks was involved with the family, and Ivan was had killed him personally to keep him quiet about something, and then took Toris in because he felt guilty about letting him take the blame.

His new friends' tales were rather similar. Eduard Von Bock, a near-genius young man from Estonia with a talent for raw data, had gone to to the Braginski's for a loan to pay off his mother's medical bills, only to fall behind on the payments. Very behind. Ivan made all of his debts vanish in exchange for lifetime service to the family. Raivis Galante, Ivan's youngest subordinate, had a dead-beat father who left his dead-beat mother when Raivis was four, and was sold by said mother at the age of ten to the family for drug money. Toris and Eduard made it their job to look after him, but he was still rather shy and lonely.

There may have been other family that no one knew about, but Toris had only had the "pleasure" of meeting Ivan's sisters. His older sister, Katyusha Braginski, lived in a different house and apparently ran a separate branch of the family in another city. She came back every now and then to ask for her brother's advice or to get his help with something. Ivan was usually more pleasant during her visits, but it never lasted long. Katyusha was one of those people who always brought trouble with her. But Ivan loved her; she was one of the very few people in the world that could actually get what they wanted from him without sacrificing anything too major. Of the three siblings, she was the least violent, so if they had a choice, most of the subordinates went to her if they needed something.

Toris had been in love with Ivan's younger sister, Natasha, since the first time he saw her. Unfortunately for him and all of her other various suitors, Natasha only had eyes for her brother, and was prone to random acts of violence. Ivan sent her out to do any dirty work that he either lacked the time or the desire to do himself. Lately, though, she had been replaced on the more grizzly jobs by the newest member of the team: Gilbert.

Gilbert Beilschmidt was the last member of their little household. Toris was pretty sure he wasn't actually part of the family (the fact that he was German was a dead giveaway), but he never acted like the rest of the subordinates. He didn't know where Gilbert came from or why he was working for Ivan; all anyone knew was that three years ago Ivan brought him to the house and introduced him as their new friend. There was a lot of kicking and screaming and fighting at first, but eventually Gilbert calmed down a little. It was easy to see why Ivan wanted him: he was an awesome fighter and a ruthless killer. It was said that his kill rates were higher than even Natasha's, and that he was the one who took down Roma Vargas, former head of the Italian family, their biggest rivals. Or at least, _formerly _their biggest rivals.

Toris really needed to find Gilbert.

He checked the game room and found Eduard, but no Gilbert. He checked the kitchen and found a half eaten sandwich, but no Gilbert. He even ventured into Gilbert's personal room and found several guns, swords, diaries, a beaten up old photograph, and his pet bird, but no Gilbert.

_Well, if he's not in the house, then there's only one place he'd be…_

Sure enough, when Toris went outside to the South Gardens, there was Gilbert, head pressed against the outer wall, back turned towards him.

"Mr. Beilschmidt?" he called, causing the German to jump, turn around, and press his back against the wall like a cornered rat.

"T-toris! Do not startle me like that!" Gilbert snapped when he found out who was addressing him. "And you can call me Gilbert."

"Sorry, Mr. Gilbert. Mr. Braginski wants to see you. It's about-"

"The Yakuza being here and kidnapping Matt?" He smirked and pushed off the wall to head for the house. "I already know about that."

"How?"

"A little bird told me." He chuckled at some joke that Toris didn't understand. As he started to follow him in, Toris thought he heard the sound of leaves crunching on the other side of the wall. He found a small hole in the wall and used that to peek to the other side to see what was there, but found absolutely nothing.

**Wednesday, October 15: 9:20AM. Just Outside Kremlin Manor. **

Ludwig waited, pressed up against the wall, eyes shut tightly, just listening. Eventually he heard the other man sigh and walk back to the house.

_That was close. Too close for comfort,_ he thought.

He probably shouldn't have come; he had a Canadian to find after all, but…

**_Wednesday, October 15: 9:10 AM. Kremlin Manor, South Gardens._**

"_West, you made it."_

"_Yes, and I told you not to call me that."_

"_Sorry, West, old habits you know."_

"_Whatever, __Brother. How are things?"_

"_Oh you know, still part of the Russian mafia and all that good stuff."_

"…"

"_How are things at the station?"_

"_Still looking for Lovino."_

"_Yeah, us too. Tell me when you find him."_

"_You know very well I will do no such thing."_

"_Thought I should ask anyway."_

"_Matthew Williams was taken again."_

"_Italians? Cause it wasn't us."_

"_No. It's looking like Yakuza."_

"_Yakuza? They're on the West Coast."_

"_We know, but it seems like they are expanding."_

"_And they have Mattie? Well, shit."_

"_I…know you, you know, don't hate him, so I wanted you to know. I should get going…"_

"_Thanks. For telling me. If Yakuza are really here, then I should probably-"_

"_Mr. Beilschmidt?" _

For posterity, Ludwig did manage to confirm that the Russians didn't have Williams and weren't in cahoots with the Yakuza, so he could kid himself into thinking that it was another recon visit. But in reality, he was just worried about his brother.


	3. Of Italians and Coffee Shops

**Wednesday, October 15: 9:20AM. Mesa Ratona Café.**

Lovino Vargas did not like fighting or violence or blood. Those were not qualities that most people would expect from a mafia boss, but truth be told, Lovino didn't like the mafia either. In fact, Lovino was already on his way out of that life when Grandpa Roma dragged him back in by dropping dead and naming him as his successor. Lovino wasn't an idiot; he knew where the money came from and what exactly had to be done to keep it, and he knew his brother, Feliciano Vargas, was an idiot, so he did what was necessary to keep them living the lifestyle that they had become accustomed to.

That didn't mean he had to like it, though.

So whenever he got the chance, like right now, Lovino Vargas, Italian crime boss, would shirk his mafia duties and visit a small café on the corner where the owner knew his name.

"Romano!" The owner, a young Spanish man by the name of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, looked up from the latte he was making to shout, "I'll be with you in a second, alright?"

Well, sort of knew his name.

Lovino started coming here a little over a year ago when it first opened, back when he was trying to get away from the family business, so when the (definitely not) cute owner had asked him his name, he knew he could tell him anything but the truth.

"_R-romano! Romano Italia." It was the first thing that popped into his head._

"_Italia? Like the country?"_

"_Yeah, I'm Italian. Got a problem with that, jerk?"_

"_Of course not. It's a cute name; it suits you." _

_Lovino had blushed, said he _wasn't_ cute, called him a bastard, and demanded another espresso._

And he had been coming back ever since. He had no idea why; the coffee sucked, Antonio was annoying, an idiot, and distinctively not cute or hot or anything like that and he definitely did _not_ like him. He came because of the atmosphere, because it had nothing to do with his family or Ivan's family or Jones's ragtag team trying to hunt them both down. And maybe the coffee wasn't that bad.

"Here you are!" Antonio handed him his espresso and sat down in the seat across from him with a coffee of his own. "I'm glad you came today."

"You say that every day." Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Do I? Well, I mean it extra today! My friend's stopping by and I want you to meet him. I think you'd get along great."

"I'm surprised an idiot like you has friends."

"Yup! I have two. Well, you'd be the third, Romano-"

"Bastard, we aren't friends!"

"-but come to think of it," he paused and took a sip of his coffee, "I haven't seen one of them in a really long time…"

"Probably just got sick of your face or something."

"Maybe," Antonio sighed, not registering the insult at all, "and my other friend is always busy with…something. I forget what he does, he changes careers so often. At least I get to see you almost every day!" He ended with a smile.

"Y-yeah, well," Lovino took a sip of his drink to hide his blush, "it's not like I like seeing you, bastard." Antonio laughed before changing topics.

One of the (very few) things Lovino liked about Antonio was that he never asked the wrong questions. Whenever they talked it was either about the café, Antonio's flower shop (which was right next door), Lovino's brother (who he knew as Veneziano Italia. Feliciano, in his never ending quest to make friends out of everyone, agreed to not let Antonio know his real name), the weather, and - their personal favorite - tomatoes. He never asked about what Romano and Veneziano did for a living or any other awkward questions about their past that Lovino would have to make up on the spot.

"…so then he gives me a $100 tip!" Antonio was saying. "I assumed it was a mistake, it was only a dozen roses, nothing big, so I give it back to him, but he insists I keep it! Can you believe that, Romano?"

"Please tell me you didn't blow it all on a pinto or something? You're barely making ends meet as it is…"

"Don't be silly, you can't buy a horse for $100." He blinked before what Lovino said actually hit him. "Are you worrying about me?"

"N-no! I could care less about you!"

"_FRATELLO_!" A high pitched shout rang through the air. Both men looked up to see Feliciano, panting heavily as if he had run the whole way there.

"Veneziano, what a pleasant surprise! Would you like me to get you something?" Antonio asked.

"Maybe later, Antonio. _Fratello_! You need to come quick!" He grabbed his brother's arm and started pulling him in the direction of the door.

"Stop pulling! It hurts!"

"_Fratello_, it's a family emergency! We need to go home now!"

"Family emergency?" Antonio looked at his friend, who had jumped out of his seat and dropped some money on the table to pay for his drink. "What's wrong?"

"The…cat's having puppies!"

Lovino had grabbed his jacket and shoved his brother out the door, shouting a quick "Later!" over his shoulder before both took off running down the street.

Antonio sighed before picking up the empty cups and money that Romano had dropped. He had just gotten back behind the counter when the door burst open again.

"_Bonjour, mon ami_! It has been far too long," Francis shouted as he made his way to Antonio, kissing him on both cheeks before seating himself at the counter.

"_Hola,_ Francis!" He placed a cappuccino in front of him. "Glad you could stop by."

Francis took a sip of his drink. "Now, where is that Romano you keep going on about?"

"You just missed him!"

"_Non_!"

"_Si_! He ran out about a minute or two before you walked in!"

"_C'est un travestissement_! Unless…you are hiding him from me, _non_?"

"He had a family emergency or something like that. Why would I hide him from you?"

"Keeping him all to yourself, maybe? I would not put something like that past you, _Monsieur _Fernandez."

"No worries there, _Señor_ Bonnefoy. He's…not into me like that."

"Really?" He smirked slyly and winked, "I think he cares more then he lets on…"

"How would you know? You've never met him!"

"_Je suis unfrançais_! I know these things!"

Antonio chuckled at his friend's antics and poured him more coffee.

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 9:36AM. Main Street.**

Lovino couldn't believe what his brother was telling him.

"I can't believe what you're telling me!" He darted down a back alley to avoid someone who may or may not have been Jones, but the mafia boss wasn't taking any chances. Feliciano wasn't far behind.

"Yes yes. It's true. I saw it with my own eyes!"

"You saw the Yakuza with your own eyes?"

"Well, maybe I only heard about it." The brothers stopped in the middle of the alley to catch their breath.

"You sure Braginski's boys haven't taken him? Hell, are you sure _our_ boys haven't taken him?"

"P-pretty sure. Anyway, why would our informants lie?"

"You can be so naïve sometimes…" Lovino leaned his head back against the wall. "This doesn't make sense! Is it too much to ask to just know what I'm dealing with?"

"If it is only that, Vargas-san," an unfamiliar voice asked from the other end of the alleyway, "then I will be more than happy to assist you.

* * *

**Translation Corner:**

**Mesa Ratona - **Spanish for 'Coffee Table.

**Fratello -** Brother

**Bonjour mon ami - **Hello, my friend

**Hola - **Hello

**Non - **No

**Si - **Yes

**C'est une tragédie****- **It's a tragedy.

**Monsieur/Senor - **Mr.

**Je suis un fran___ç_****ais** - I am French.


	4. A New Challenger Appears

**Wednesday, October 15: 9:38AM. Back Alley.**

"You…" Lovino felt into his jacket for his gun while Feliciano clung to his back, shaking and peeking out over his shoulder.

"Yes, me." The man who spoke took a step forward, revealing finely carved Japanese features. Two women flanked him; the one on the left had long brown held back out of her cold brown eyes by a flower clip, moving gracefully in a flowing pink dress, and the other had even longer black hair tied back into a ponytail, her body sheathed in a tight green dress, a straw hat pulled over half of her face. Upon closer inspection, Lovino noticed that they were both carrying shuriken, and any thoughts of_, I might be able to take them _completely vanished.

"The way everyone was talking about you, Vargas-san, I had assumed that it would be hard to find you." The man took a step forward, giving Lovino a chance to look him over. He was at least a head shorter than his girls, his typically Asian black hair and dark eyes clashing perfectly with his spotless white suit. "But it was not that hard; I had simply to look around."

Lovino smirked, hoping that he could keep the tremble in his hand out of his voice. "That's not how it works around here, Honda Kiku."

Green Dress surreptitiously raised her arm a fraction of an inch, but Honda just chuckled. "So you have heard of me?"

Lovino just noticed that he was carrying a sword. _Dammit_. "You are single-handedly making it impossible for my West Coast boys to get anything done. You don't know how things work around here."

"Oh? I think I understand quite a bit, perhaps even more than you."

Ignoring him man, Lovino muttered to his brother, "You need to run when I give the signal. Meet me back at the house," then he turned back to Honda and asked, "Where's Williams?"

"He's safe for now. I was unaware that you cared for him at all, really."

"Actually forgot he existed until today. I just don't want Jones on my ass. Have you met him yet?"

"Jones-san? I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting face to face yet."

"Want me to introduce you?" Before Honda or his women could move, Lovino whipped out his gun and fired off a round straight into the air, his brother taking off up the alley, back to the street and pausing, the mafia boss sprinted past Kiku, Green Dress, and Pink Dress and kept on running, even when he felt a shuriken knick his left ankle and another embed itself in his right shoulder.

He knew they were chasing, heard Honda unsheathe his sword, but Lovino barely noticed, his mind chanting, _keep running, don't stop, keep moving._ Left, right, right, left, left, and Lovino found himself at a dead end.

"Sh-shit…" he panted, clutching his shoulder.

"That was not a very smart move on your part, Vargas-san."

Lovino turned reluctantly, pressing his back against the wall. If he was going to go down…well, there was probably going to be a lot of cursing and screaming, but damnit, he would see it coming.

Honda stepped forward and raised his sword, and Lovino flinched involuntarily, steeling himself for the blow…..then two shots rang out and hit the wall just above his head. They both froze.

Instantly, the girls spun around and assumed defensive positions, ready to protect their leader's back. Honda lowered his weapon and glanced at the shooter over his shoulder.

"Nice sword," the intruder commented, "Yakuza, I assume?"

"This is a private matter. Outsiders would do best to not butt in."

"No worries there. You kidnapped my brother," Alfred Jones stated, taking aim with his gun again, "so I guess that puts me on the inside."

"What the hell took you so long, you bastard!" Lovino shouted. "If you had any kind of patrol over the area you would have shown up _right after _I fired that shot!"

"Vargas? You're here too?" Jones quirked an eyebrow, "I guess it makes sense…a sword can't really sound like a gunshot…"

"Everyone around me is an idiot…"

"Hey! I've been looking for you too!" Jones steadied his gun. "I think we all should continue this little party downtown."

"I believe we are downtown," Honda said, "but I am new to the area, so I might be mistaken."

Lovino beat his head against the wall, wincing when the action drove the shuriken further into his shoulder. Recoiling and clutching his shoulder, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye: someone had lowered the fire escape to his left. If he could just distract Jones and Honda long enough…

Without really think it through, he chucked his empty handgun to the right, sending it flying into a garbage can. Immediately, it went off, the bullet ricocheting off the metal can and setting up one hell of a racket. _So maybe it wasn't that empty…_

Regardless, it provided enough of a commotion to have everyone else look that way while Lovino made a break for the fire escape. Pink Dress spotted him as he reached the top, shooting one last shuriken into his back, but it was too late. Barely slowed, he jumped through an open window to safety.

"_Hallo, mein kleiner Italiener_," he heard a voice say before an armed wrapped around his torso from behind and a hand covered his mouth to prevent him from screaming. Lovino knew that voice…

Damnit, today just wasn't his day.

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 9:50AM. Back Alley.**

Kiku winced as the bullet hit his shoulder. He saw Mei throw another shuriken somewhere off to his right, but he didn't know if it hit its target or not.

_If it is just one man, then I can still save this._ He spun around to face his American adversary, whispering an order, "Mei…"

"On it." She started to run towards the fire escape, but a shot from the opposing rooftop stopped her in her tracks. Everyone in the alley looked up; a new woman had her gun trained at the group below.

"Sorry I'm late, Boss," she shouted.

Jones nodded, eyes never leaving Kiku's. "I'm not in the mood to play," he said sternly. "Where's Matt?"

"Are you really just going to let Vargas-san get away like that?" Kiku ignored his bullet wound and took a fighting position. "And do you honestly think you can defeat us?"

Jones smirked. "Well, we do have you surrounded."

The Yakuza boss was fed up with this. "Go."

Instantly the two girls jumped into action; Mei continued to the fire escape after Vargas, V ran up the wall to take out the sniper, and Kiku, charged straight at Jones.

Jones fired two shots missing, and barely managed to bring his gun up to block a vicious slash from Kiku's sword. The Yakuza's attack didn't slow, forcing Jones onto the defensive, taking careful steps backward until he was pinned against a wall. He ducked and dived to the left to avoid a stab aimed at his heart, then took advantage of an opening by punching Kiku in the face.

Dazed, Kiku fell back a few steps and took a look at his surroundings. V was still on the roof with the woman, a slight limp indicating that she had taken a bullet, but a slash on the other's face and right shoulder proved that she was still fighting back. Mei had been intercepted on her way to the fire escape by a giant blonde, another of Jones's men, he assumed. She had him on the defensive, but wasn't able to get any hits in. _There are at least three of them, then…_

A gun at the back of his head, though, forced him to change that count to four.

"_Je suis un peu en retard,_" he heard a voice behind him say.

"Ya think?" Jones stepped forward and grabbed Kiku by the collar. "Now I'll ask you again. Where's Matt?"

"Safe, for now," he smirked, acting as if he still had the upper hand. "Killing me may seal his fate, though."

"Don't fuck with me!" Jones slammed him into a nearby wall, the jarring hit sending a stab of pain through the bullet wound in his shoulder, and he couldn't help but close his eyes. "What did you do with my brother?"

_There are four of them here,_ Kiku thought, _one woman, three men. Jones is definitely calling the shots. He did not care that Vargas escaped into the house, so I can assume there is at least one more in there. Hopefully they failed to catch him. I wish to deal with him myself…_He quietly snuck his hand into his back pocket. _We are done here._

"Do not worry, Jones-san," Kiku opened his eyes and smiled at him. "You will see him soon. Perhaps even in one piece."

Before Jones could react, Kiku tossed a smoke bomb on the ground, using the smokescreen as a cover to slash at Jones' upper arm. The American released him immediately, cursing and searching through the haze for his escaped prisoner.

"My name is Honda Kiku," he whispered in the man's ear as he slipped away. "I hope we see each other again soon."

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 10:15AM. Back Alley.**

When the smoke finally cleared, Alfred was quite upset to find the Yakuza members had vanished.

"Dammit!" He kicked a nearby garbage can, sending it ricocheting off the wall and nearly hitting Francis in the head.

"_Mon ami_, I know you're upset, but killing me will do nothing!"

"Sorry, Francis, but they still have Matt and I don't know what they'll do with him! At least with the Italians or the Russians we'd have some idea but-"

"Al, relax." Elizaveta had finally come down from the roof, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find him." Berwald gave an affirmative nod.

"You're right." Just then the American's cell started ringing. He barely paused to check the caller ID before flipping it open. "Ludwig," he answered, "you were right, he ran into the building. Did you get him?"

"_No_," came the reply, "_but I did find someone else…_"

* * *

**Translations:**

**Hallo, mein**** kleiner Italiener - **German. 'Hello my little Italian.' (Correct translation thanks to Fantasyname).

**Je suis un peu en retard - **I'm a little late

**Mon ami - **my friend


	5. On Yakuza and the Will to Live

**It should be noted, right off the bat, that I suck at naming things. You may have already guessed this from some of the places I've named, but that goes double for people. So if a nation doesn't have a human name, then I'm usually better off thinking of an excuse for everyone to use their country name instead, which is what I do, for the most part.**

**Enjoy.**

**Anon Reviews:**

**fleur: **Don't worry, it does. ;) That's the general fandom name for her (from what I've read, at least),so I'll probably just stick with that. He'll show up...when you least expect it...

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15: 10:45 AM. Location Uknown.**

Lovino ground his teeth into the leather glove in his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to not scream out loud, because damnit, that hurt, and he would pay the bastard back by destroying his glove.

"Hold still," the gruff German voice said as his still gloved hand gripped his bare shoulder a little tighter to make sure he complied as he continued sewing up the Italian's wound, "or maybe next time you vould like to go to emergency room and tell dem vhy you hafe shuriken in your back."

Lovino could swear he heard the bastard smirking at his pain. He had no right to be smug like that, it's not like he owed him his life or anything!

Except for the fact he, you know, did.

-

_**Wednesday, October 15: 9:52 AM. Abandoned Building. ****  
**_

"Hallo, mein kleiner Italiener,_" a familiar voice said as he was grabbed from behind. Lovino struggled against his captor, causing the man to hold him even tighter._

"_Shit!" he heard him exclaim when one of the shuriken still in his back managed to injure his assailant, causing him to let the Italian go._

_Lovino immediately jumped away and went for the gun that he threw at the garbage can in the alley only a few moments before. Perfect._

"_Calm down, _kleiner Italiener,_ I'm not here to kill you today. I am here to help"_

"_Gilbert Wiellschmidt's here to help me? Will it start raining tomatoes soon?"_

"_Vell, you nefer know," Gilbert took a few tentative steps forward in a failed attempt to not scare the Italian. "Herr Braginski sent us here to talk to you."_

"_Us?" _

"_Us," Lovino heard the door slam shut and turned to see Natasha standing there, knife in hand. _Of all my freaking luck,_ he thought._

"_My brother wants to offer a temporary alliance between our two families to take down our mutual foreign rival," she explained, "You may have noticed, the Yakuza are in town-"_

"_No shit, I have frigg'n _shuriken_ in my back, but I had no idea the Yakuza were in town!"_

_She knocked Lovino down and held the knife to his throat. "Insolence!"_

"_Back off, Nat. Ve need him in von piece." Natasha shot Gilbert a look of utter contempt before doing as he said._

"_Vell," Gilbert continued, "vat do you say?"_

"_I'm just supposed to trust Braginski actually wants to form an alliance with me, despite the fact that our families have been fighting for control of this city since forever?"_

"_Of course, it vill be temporary," the German explained._

"_Brother would rather not have new outside competition at this time," Natasha continued, "and as such he is willing to go through such drastic measures as cooperating with you."_

"_And I'm just supposed to believe him."_

"_Ve came to you first. Not Feli."_

"_Of course we could always change tactics if you prove…uncooperative…"_

"_Leave my brother out of this!" Lovino shakily got back to his feet._

"_Ve vould like to. It is only a last resort."_

"_I still can't trust him. Not after everything."_

"_He won't be trusting you either, I can assure that." _

"_So how can I trust what you're saying?"_

_Before either of them could come up with a response, the door was kicked open by Ludwig who wasted no time in charging right in, gun already drawn._

"_I vas only excepting to find von Italian," he commented, "but it's a regular party in here."_

_Natasha automatically went into a defensive stance. "What are you doing here?"_

"_Jones is here," Gilbert said off-handedly. "Didn't you know?"_

"_Usually you _tell_ your partner these things!"_

"_I tought you knew," he grabbed Lovino's left arm. "About dat trust ting, if ve get you out of here, vill ve hafe it?"_

"_I'd need to be _alive_,"_

"_Then consider it done," Natasha lunged at Ludwig, who had to dive out of the doorway in order to dodge, giving Gilbert the chance to bolt into the hallway, dragging Lovino behind him._

_The two of them made it to Gilbert's car, where they promptly jumped into the back seat and locked the doors. _

"_Go." Gilbert instructed the driver._

"_What about Natasha?"_

"_She knows da risks. If ve vait for her, Luvig vill catch us, and eferting is over. She can take care of herself."_

_-_

And so, Lovino Vargas found himself shirtless in the backseat of Gilbert's car while the other man stitched up his back, chomping down on his glove in an attempt to dull the pain.

"Done." Gilbert finally declared, causing the Italian mafia boss to let out a relieved sigh.

"Now for da oter von."

Lovino groaned. "Can you just drop me off at my place? My doctors can take care of it, and they have anesthetic!"

"Dat vill take too long." He promptly shoved the needle into Lovino's back again without ceremony, causing him to scream out loud. "And pipe down! Ve don't vant to arouse suspicion."

Lovino grumbled and put the glove back in his mouth, fully intending to grind it to dust.

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 10:45 AM. Undisclosed Location.**

Kiku hissed as a tall man with dark hair and glasses poked around his bullet wound.

"Please don't move, _Oyabun-sama_. You'll make it worse." He stilled but said nothing.

Thai was the Yakuza's doctor, among other things. His real name was Kiet, but after joining up with Kiku, he opted to drop his real name, and since he was originally from Thailand, everyone had just started calling him Thai. He couldn't really fight, but since he was capable of doing whatever else Kiku needed him to do, he managed to ascend the ranks.

"It's in there pretty deep. You probably shouldn't have been fighting with it in there like that. Sorry, but it'll need surgery."

"I'm sorry, Kiku_-sama_," Meimei said, tears coming to her eyes, "it's all my fault. I should have protected you better!" V looked away guiltily as well.

Meimei Mei was a kind, sweet girl with a killer aim. She was Kiku's childhood friend and had been by his side since practically birth, despite being a few years older and having been born in Taiwan. When he had inherited this criminal organization, she insisted on being right by his side the whole way through, no matter what happened to her or what she had to do in the process.

V was an exceptionally shy girl. In fact, Kiku wasn't sure she ever heard her say anything aside from when they first met and she had shouted, "Please take me with you!" in such a way that he hadn't the heart to refuse, and has been serving him faithfully ever since. Because of her shyness though, no one really knew much about her except that she was from Vietnam and could beat most of the Yakuza senseless with her rice paddle.

"That was not your fault. If anything it was mine for letting my guard down," the Japanese man sighed before turning to Thai. "Sorry for causing you trouble."

"It's no problem at all, _Oyabun-sama_."

"I want to check on Williams-_san_, and then we can do the surgery."

Meimei and V helped him off the examination table, but he waved them off as he walked through a side door into the other room by himself.

The room was fairly dark and consisted of nothing more than several chairs, a bookcase full of a random assortment of books, and a fire place which was currently lit. Tied to one chair was a blonde haired, blue eyed man with glasses who was shifting around uncomfortably. In a nearby chair lounged a boy with short, dark brown hair and light brown eyes, playing with something in his hand.

"How is everything, Hong Kong-_kun_?"

The boy tossed what was in his hand to the ground by Kiku's feet, causing it to explode. Kiku didn't flinch.

Nobody in the organization knew Hong Kong's real name, as he always gave a different answer whenever asked. Nobody knew where he was from either, and since he always alternated between giving Chinese names and English names, everyone just settled for calling him Hong Kong. Nobody knew very much about Hong Kong either, since he didn't talk much and never shows any emotion. Despite his young age, he was a master with explosives, although he was quite the pyro.

"Fine. He didn't even try to escape. What happened to your shoulder?" he asked in monotone.

"Nothing to worry about. Keep your eye on him and I will have someone bring you both lunches shortly." Hong Kong nodded.

Kiku was about to leave when the prisoner stuttered out, "W-wait a moment please."

He turned his head slightly to indicate that he was listening. "When will you be letting me go?"

"Whenever I find it convenient to do so. Rest assured I will probably not end up killing you. Please enjoy your stay with us." And with that he returned to the examination room.

"Thai," he said, lying down on the examination table, "let us get this over with, please."

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 11:00 AM. Police Headquarters, Chief's Office.**

"You failed to catch Lovino Vargas, despite the fact he was _right there_," the Chief said as he circled Alfred.

"He's a slippery little-"

"Do _not_ interrupt me Jones. You failed to catch even _one _member of the Yakuza despite three of them being _right there_ as well as failing to get _any_ clue as to what they're planning,"

"They're a master criminal organization! I at least got a name-"

"Don't interrupt! On top of all that, I'm _still_ missing my leading homicide detective." He slammed his hands on the table in front of Alfred. "_What the bloody hell am I to do now?!_"

Arthur Kirkland was the Chief of Police. He was an irate Englishman with sandy blonde hair and emerald green eyes. He was rather close to Alfred and Matthew when they were growing up and had a hand in raising them when their parents were either not around or just too busy to deal with them. They were all quite close until Matthew's mother took him back to Canada and Alfred's mother became determined to spend more time with him. When they both became part of his department, he was secretly thrilled, but he hides it by fighting Alfred on everything. The fact that a certain French nemesis of his became part of his Special Mob Squad (the name was Alfred's idea, Arthur was working on changing it) didn't help matters.

"Lighten up Arty," Alfred said nonchalant. "Look on the bright side! We did manage to get Natasha Braginski."

"Optimistic git, how long do you think it'll take for Ivan to bust her out?! And it's Chief!"

"Gotcha Chief Arty, but still, if we can get stuff out of her before Ivan shows up…"

"That won't get me my homicide detective back!"

"It might. You never know until you try."

"Sometimes I wish I had your infernal confidence…" Alfred shrugged and took a loud slurp from his soda. "Where is she now?"

"Berwald has her in the interrogation room."

"Good. What are you planning to do about Williams?"

"Get him back. Duh."

"How are you going to do that _when you have no idea where they're holding him?!_"

"Chillax. I'll think of something."

"I will most certainly not 'chillax' whatever the bloody hell that means, and if I waited for you to have a coherent thought that wasn't about burgers we'd be here until the end of time! You…will need help with this one. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"What, you think you've got a better idea? I've been dealing with mafias for years now. What the difference if their Asian or not?"

"Not all mafias are the same! You of all people should know that Alfred!" Arthur slammed and turned his back to his subordinate. "I've…taken the liberty to bring in some outside help…"

"What, you don't think I can do it? I'm a hero; I take down bad guys for a living!"

"I just…don't want you to get hurt." The awkward silence was quickly dispelled by a sudden knock on the office door. Arthur opened the door, exchanged a few polite greetings with whoever was on the other side before stepping back and letting two men enter.

The first man was a short, Chinese man with his dark black hair tied back into a pony tail. He had sharp brown eyes which where analyzing Alfred the moment he had stepped into the room and was wearing a suit. The second man was a taller Korean with short black hair that had a curl sticking out. His brown eyes were wide and curious and his manner of dress was far more casual than the others.

"Mr. Jones," Arthur introduced as he shut the door and came back to the table, "may I introduce you to Mr. Wang Yao and Mr. Im Yong Soo, your new team members."

* * *

**Translation Corner:**

**Hallo, mein kleiner Italiener - **Hello, my little Italian (correct translation thanks to Fantasyname.)

**kleiner Italiener - **little Italian (just in case you couldn't put two and two together...)

**Herr - **Mr.

**Oyabun - **Japanese. Boss

**sama - **Japanese honorific used for people of a higher status to show respect.

**san - **Mr./Mrs.

**kun - **Japanese honorific used among friends or for people of a lower status.

**And to anyone who knows Korean: just to make sure (since I fail at Korean forever), Korean for older brother is _Hyung, _right?**


	6. A New Team For Those New Challenges

**As it turns out, writing in Sweden's 'grunt speak' gives me a headache. And indigestion, but that could have just been the fish. Anyway I tweaked his accent a little.**

**Axis Powers Hetalia and it's character = not mine. I just play with them.**

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15: 11:05 AM. Police Headquarters, Temporary Headquarters.**

"Um, Ludwig," the German glanced up from the paper work he was filling out about this morning's incident to see Elizaveta looking uncharacteristically nervous. Berwald was still in the interrogation room with Natasha, Alfred was currently being chewed out by the Chief, and no one was sure where Francis was (there were some weird noises coming from the closet down the hall though…), making them the only ones in their temporary headquarters.

"Vat is it?"

"How…how was he?" Ludwig stopped working all together. "Natasha was quick to tell us that he was in there too. I know you didn't get to talk, but…"

"He is alive. A little paler perhaps, but alive."

"Have…have you spoken to him again?" She fiddled with her wedding band and refused to make eye contact, which was fine with the blonde, as he had blushed and turned away.

"I hafe no idea vat you are talking about…"

"Yes you do. I'm not an idiot, Ludwig. I can connect the dots."

He sighed. "He is…lonely, I suppose, but dat is noting new." He shot a look at Elizaveta, who stilled at the comment and finally looked the German in the eyes.

"I'm sorry Ludwig."

"I'm not da von dat needs to hear it."

"Yes, but I can't help but think-"

"He vould not run avay and join da Russian Mafia simply because of you."

"Do you know-"

"_Nein._ He vill not tell my vhy."

Elizaveta was about to say something else when Francis chose this moment to appear. In the hallway they could see the secretary, a young girl nicknamed Sey, heading back to her station, blushing furiously and quite disheveled.

"_Bonjour mes amis! _I see you are all looking fabulous zis afternoon."

Ludwig rolled his eyes and went back to his paperwork. Elizaveta smacked his head and chastised him for fooling around during a crisis.

"Where iz our beloved boss anyway?" Francis asked. As if summoned, Alfred, Arthur, Yao, and Yong Soo chose that moment to enter.

"Gentleman, Lady, and Frog," Arthur said, "I would like you to meet your new teammates, Mr. Wang Yao and Mr. Im Yong Soo."

Wang Yao, known in various underground circles as 'The Dragon' for no adequately explained reason, was an experienced undercover agent. He had spent the better part of his life undercover in this criminal organization or that one in over fifty different countries. He had been undercover in the Yakuza until about a month ago when his identity was compromised. Since then he has been following Honda Kiku wherever he could, determined to bring him down himself to make up for his failure.

Im Yong Soo was Yao's assistant, so to speak, as well as his self-proclaimed little brother. Two years ago he had been part of a street gang in Seoul that was quickly gaining power. Yong Soo had wanted out, and the Boss hadn't taken too kindly to that, leading to half the gang beating him up and leaving him for dead. Yao, who was currently undercover in the gang at the time, had saved him, brought down the gang, and taken the young Korean under his wing. Since then, he had mainly served as Yao's link between him and the local police force but has also been able to gather quick and reliable information, such as when Yao's identity has been compromised.

"They will be your 'Yakuza Experts,' so to speak," the Britain went on to explain before turning to face Yao and Yong Soo. "The one up to his neck in the paper work over there is Mr. Ludwig, who is an expert on the Russian Mafia. This young lady over here is Ms. Elizaveta Hedervary, combat expert, or something like that. The perverted Frog is Mr. Francis Bonnefoy, who somehow knows everything about the Italian Mafia or else his arse would be fired. You'll meet Berwald Oxenstierna later, as he is currently busy being the only one doing his bloody job."

Ludwig cleared his throat loudly. "You don't count there, Ludwig. You're never not doing your job."

"It's nice to meet you all, I guess, aru." Yao said.

"I'm sure we'll get along great," Yong Soo said with a smile on his face.

"Well I've got a homicide department to get under control. You chaps have fun." With that he left.

An awkward silence descended upon the room broken only by Ludwig's pen scratching away.

"So…" Alfred attempted, "I guess we should update you on the current situation…"

"Yes, aru. That would be best."

"Well-"

"At 9AM a note vas found on Herr Villiam's desk," Ludwig explained, passing said note along the table to Yao, who picked up to examine it.

"No one here can make heads or tails of it," Elizaveta explained, "but it's our belief that the point of leaving it was more to announce their presence rather than to leave a specific message."

"Yeah, that fits Honda to a t," Yong Soo nodded.

"After a brief discussion, ve split up to search at 9:15AM."

"Mostly to see if ze Yakuza were working alone or not," Francis explained. "I went to visit _mon ami_, who 'as a _trés_ bad 'abit of 'earing zings 'e really shouldn't. 'E 'ad 'eard nozing, so I left as soon as I got ze call from MonsieurOxenstierna. I showed up at ze end; just in time to corner Monsieur Honda and to watch 'im and his beauties escape."

"Berwald and I searched in an area that has a high rate of criminal activity," Elizaveta explained. "We 'talked' to a few informants before we got the call from Al, telling us he found them and where to meet him. I went on ahead while Berwald hung back to inform Francis and Ludwig, except Ludwig was already there. I fired off a few shots from a nearby rooftop, causing one of the girls to come up and challenge me directly. When Honda was cornered, she tossed a smoke bomb and disappeared."

"I vent to check vit my underworld contacts, but dey had heard noting. I receifed da call from Herr Jones at 9:45AM telling me dat he vas in pursuit and vat direction he vas heading in. I told him I vould station myself in an abandoned building nearby just in case and proceeded to do so, vere I encountered Herr Fargas, Herr Viellschmidt, and Fräulein Braginski. Viellschmidt and Fargas escaped, but I vas able to apprehend Braginski."

Everybody in the room turned to face Alfred, who was pouting and tracing the patterns in the table with his index finger.

"I wanted to tell them…"

"You can tell them your story now," Elizaveta said.

"But…I wanted to tell them the whole thing…" The Hungarian pulled her frying pan out and held it threateningly in front of him. "…or I can just tell them my part now.

"I had heroically rushed out of here with blinding speed, determined to save my captured brother…" Yao interrupted him with a subtle cough.

"If you could just stick to the facts, please, Mr. Jones, aru."

"Your loss," he shrugged.

"I was looking, well, everywhere. Eventually I heard several gunshots and went to investigate and found a trail of blood, so I followed it. Eventually I saw Kiku and his girls running a bit ahead of me, so I called Ludwig and Elizaveta. Berwald said he'd call Francis for me. When I got to the dead end, Lovino, Kiku, and the girls were already there, and Lovino tossed his gun, causing it to fire, and escaped into the building where Ludwig said he would be waiting. Uh…Elizaveta showed up, and I started fighting Kiku…Berwald showed up eventually…Francis came at the end," at this point Alfred grabbed his bandaged upper arm, "Then Kiku dropped a smoke bomb and escaped."

"From what I gathered from your retellings, you all have no idea what you are up against here, aru," Yao stated.

"Hey, now wait just a minute-" he held up a finger stopping the American mid complaint.

"You have no idea what you're up against," he reiterated. "I understand that it is your goal is to stop all mafia activity in the city, however ours is simply to bring down Honda Kiku's faction. I could care less about Italians or Russians or whatever else you have crawling in your sewers, aru. If we have to work with you to accomplish our goal, then so be it, but," he slammed the desk, "if your pursuit of those others ends up holding our own investigation back, then I will not hesitate to cut ties with you. Is that understood?"

All eyes in the room went to Alfred. The American took the opportunity to look each teammate in the eye. Francis merely shrugged and started playing with his hair. Elizaveta rolled her eyes. Ludwig gave him a look that the American couldn't interpret and continued with the paperwork.

"I get it," he eventually said, "but on the flip side, like you said; we're trying to stop _all _mafia activity here. If you're obsessive need to get Kiku gets in the way of us making progress, then we will have to drop you."

Yao smirked and extended his hand. "I can accept that." Alfred shook it.

"This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Hardly," The Chinese man huffed, "it is more like an alliance against a common enemy, aru."

"Don't ruin the moment."

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 11:05 AM. Police Headquarters, Interrogation Room.**

"I'm not talking. You're just wasting your time here," Natasha Braginski crossed her arms and looked at the wall. Berwald merely grunted.

"My brother will come and get me, just you wait. He'll come dashing in and save me…because he loves me."

"Of course he does. After all, ya'n important member of his family."

"Exactly. No one can take my place in his heart…Stop glaring at me like that!"

"Gilbert's been taken on more jobs than ya lately, hasn't he?"

"J-just because you've been catching him more doesn't mean-"

"He's the one that got away."

"Because I stayed to fight! He used the excuse of getting the Italian out alive to run! Now he's going to get all the praise from my brother…"

_Berwald's note to self: 'Getting the Italian out alive'= Braginski needs Vargas + What Ludwig overhead about 'That Trust Thing' = Possible Team-Up. _

"Must be tough. Working so hard like ya do only to have Gilbert just…"

"That bastard's been trying to upstage me since the beginning."

"If he somehow manages to mess _this_ up…"

"Then brother would be most…displeased. Everything is riding on this…you almost had me there." She smirked while turning to face him. "I'm not a snitch, Oxenstierna, and I want my phone call."

"Lines're busy. Whaddya know 'bout Matt?"

"I'm not telling you anything until I get my phone call." She leaned back, smirk fading into a frown, and stared him down.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Stop glaring at me! The Yakuza have Williams; I don't know where he is! It's bad for us too you know."

"Why's that?"

"…not saying."

_Berwald's note to self: 'It's bad for us' = Yakuza acting against Braginski's interests + Yakuza attacking Vargas = Possible Team-Up._

"Gotta ask: Where's ya brother?"

"Not telling."

"…"

"If you keep making that face it'll get stuck that way you know."

"…"

"Tino might not like it like that…"

"!!!"

"Oh? Did I touch a nerve there Oxenstierna? Don't underestimate my brother's ability to gather information. In fact, it's possible he might even-"

"Ya dunno what ya talking 'bout."

"Is that so? I beg to-"

"No. Ya don't," He stood up walked to the door, shooting an "I'll see 'bout that phone call," before he left the room, slamming the door.

On the other side, Berwald leaned against the door, trying to stop his hand from shaking. Her bringing up Tino like that out of the blue had upset something inside of the Swede. What if Braginski had…no, it was impossible. Norge wouldn't let that happen, wherever he was.

He shook his head to clear these thoughts; he really needed to focus on finding Matthew right now, and any thoughts of missing…whatevers were just going to get in the way.

Eventually Berwald calmed down enough to lock the door and decide to make his way to the Temporary Headquarters to report the results of his interrogation. After all, all signs pointed to a Russian-Italian team-up, and that might be worst thing possible to happen for their little team.

* * *

**Yes, Norge is Norway. I'm that awesome at naming things.**

**Translation corner:**

**Nein: **No.

**Bonjour mes amis: **Hello my friends.


	7. Kitty Kitty Bang Bang

**Wednesday, October 15: 11:30 AM. Outside Mesa Ratona Café.**

"Wh-what are we doing here?" Lovino asked as he was forced out of the car to face the very same café that Feliciano found him at earlier that day.

"Neutral turf. To discuss our 'alliance,'" Gilbert answered as he too stepped out onto the street. "I know da owner. He von't squeal. Vhy? You hafe a better place?"

"I do know this little restaurant on the other side of town…"

"A little Italian restaurant I assume? Controlled by some of your people perhaps? Forget it; I'm not stepping foot in anyplace Italian. Ve could go talk to Braginski personally…"

"No."

"Den ve talk here." Before the Italian could protest further, Gilbert pushed him through the doors and he was greeted by a far too cheerful "Romano! You're back!" from behind the counter. Hugging was imminent.

"Gilbert? You're here too?" Antonio let go of Lovino and greeted his old friend with a smile and a handshake. "I haven't seen you in ages! You don't stop by as much as you used to. I didn't know you and Romano were friends though!"

Gilbert's face was blank for all of half a second before a devious grin broke out. "Me neiter. Must be vhat dey call a small vorld."

"We're _not_ friends…" Lovino muttered. The other two ignored him.

"So what have you been up to Gilbert? And how do you know my little Romano?"

"I'm not_ yours_…"

"Just tings. No need to vorry about dem. _Klein_ Romano here and I hafe some business to take care of."

"Oh," Antonio looked between Lovino and Gilbert, a bit shocked, "of course! There's a booth in the back that's free."

"_Danke_." The German grabbed Lovino's arm and started pulling him in the direction the Spaniard pointed.

"Do you need me to get you anything?"

"My usual. And vhatever his usual is."

Antonio brought their drinks to them just as they sat down and immediately left to attend the other customers.

"It is a rater sweet ass," Gilbert commented as he walked away.

"Pardon?"

"You vere staring. I'm merely agreeing."

"I-I wasn't staring at anything bastard!"

"You vere fery clearly staring at my friend's ass," he took a sip of his drink, which smelled very strong even from where Lovino was sitting from across the table. "Not dat I blame you. Like I said, it is a fery sweet ass."

"I wasn't staring at anybody's ass! I like girls damnit!"

"I am sure you do, but could it be you didn't efen notice you vere staring? Interesting," he set his cup down, "but not vhat ve're here for. Let's talk business, shall ve?"

"Yes, let's," Lovino said, eager to drop the subject of Antonio's ass.

"Ve are in public, so you don't mind if I use code, do you? Anyvay, you agree dat it is witin our party's best interests to take down the Dust Bunnies, correct?"

"Yes…"

"So you agree to my boss's proposal?"

"I'm not willing to just jump on in and trust him yet. Or you, for that matter."

"I got you out alife. Vhat more do you vant?"

"All I'm saying is you _are_ the one who k-Baptized, my grandfather and left me with the annoying ramble that is his Company."

"It vas just part of da job, noting personal. And here I vas hoping dat vouldn't get in da vay of our stellar friendship."

"I know you don't trust me either, so don't give me that."

"Trust trust trust, is dat all you talk about? Vhat does it matter if I don't trust you or you don't trust me? My boss trusts novon, and look how vell off he is."

"I ain't your boss," Lovino leaned back and glared the hit man down with all the nerve he could muster. "And if he really wanted this, he would have sent someone who doesn't Baptize my family for a living."

"Vell, dat only leaves novon ," Gilbert sighed. "Look, ve can go back and fort wit dis for as long as you vant, while in da meantime, da Dust Bunnies still hafe Matt, and you know as vell as I do dat means leferage on Jones, which can go a long vay in dis business."

"Funny, it's almost like you care about what happens to someone other than yourself for a change."

Lovino wasn't positive, but he thought he just saw the albino blush. "It's…you know how bad it is vhen da oter side has Matt."

_He is worried. Hello leverage. _"Yeah, we need to get Matt away from the Dust Bunnies, sure, but I'm not talking about any cooperation with a potato-bastard like you."

"You _know_ time is of da essence in our line of vork…"

"Then you better run on back to your boss pretty fast and tell him to send someone else. This time I name the location." Lovino was praying to any gods who were listening that he wasn't trembling as he said that.

"And vere vould dat be?"

"There's a bar called _Sportello Bancomat_ on the other side of town, eight o'clock. Yeah, it's Italian and yeah, my people own it. If your boss has a problem with it, then tell him to come himself. Otherwise send Raivis and Toris; I can trust them. If you they come alone, then they will meet with only me and my brother."

"And if dey come vit me or my boss?"

"Then they will meet with quite a few others as well."

"You clearly do not trust us. How vill ve know if you vill keep your vord?"

"Because I said so. If I am nothing else, I'm a man of my word."

"Da eternal paradox: how can I believe dat?" Gilbert smirked. "Vell, I know you are no fighter, nor are you much of a killer, so I guess you'll hafe to take man of your vord den." He stood up and tossed some money on the table to pay for his drink. "I vill be escorting Raivis and Toris, no matter vhat you or my boss say." Before the Italian could complain though, he had walked over to where Antonio was, exchanged a few words and a handshake, and was out the door.

Relief that he had not only somehow escaped from that encounter alive but with an upper hand to boot flooded through the mob boss. He slumped forward against the tabled and played with his drink, so absorbed with everything that he didn't notice when Antonio seated himself in Gilbert's empty seat.

"So, I didn't know you knew Gilbert…"

"Huh?" he looked up. "Oh, yeah, well, I didn't know you knew him either."

"We go way back. He comes off harsh, but he's pretty nice once you get to know him…"

"I'm sure."

Antonio seemed to miss the sarcasm, as his smile grew bigger and he continued, "Yes, well, him, Francis, and I go way back and-"

"Francis? Francis Bonnefoy?"

"Yeah, you know him too?"

"We've…crossed paths…"

"That's so exciting! But, well, about Gilbert," his smile actually fell, and he seemed nervous, "he's a great guy and all that, but, uh, you shouldn't get involved with him, Romano."

Lovino blinked. _He's warning me now? _"Why's that?"

"I know you have, uh, business to take care of, but as soon as you're done, just…stay away from him. His boss, well, new boss I should say, he's had several, anyway, his new boss is…not nice."

_So he knows about the Russians, but he still doesn't know who I am. I could use this… _"How so?"

"He's just…not nice. Look, Romano, you're a good person, I can tell, and I don't want to see you get hurt," and Antonio looked at him with such sincerity that Lovino didn't have it in him to make fun of him, whether he understood it or not.

Instead, he blushed deeply and muttered, "Bastard, I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can," the three-million watt smile was back in place, "but still. I like seeing your face every day."

Lovino was positive that all the blood in his body was now in his cheeks. Antonio didn't seem to notice though as he stood up, scooped up Gilbert's money, and told him that his latte was on the house.

* * *

**Wednesday, October 15: 12:00 AM. Main Street.**

Honda Kiku liked to explore new territory by himself. He had to do it within the first week or else his face will be out and everyone would know who he was, and that would make going out for a simple walk much less enjoyable. Still, he had a knife in his sock and a few shuriken tucked away, just in case.

Scoping out a new area was essential in his line of work, and while he insisted everyone in his organization venture out in groups, Kiku liked doing it alone. It was one of the very few times he could actually be truly alone with himself without Mei or V in the shadows watching his back and just be himself. Added to the fact that he almost never went out during the day due to the whole 'face might be recognized' thing, and he would normally be in a good mood right about now."

Normally, of course, didn't account for just having a bullet ripped out of his shoulder that was put in him by some bumbling Italian. If he ever did find Lovino Vargas again…but, of course he would find him, and he would teach him a very painful lesson. Sources said he had a brother…

"Meow," That soft sound pulled the Yakuza boss from his thoughts and forced him to look down, where a brown tabby cat was currently nuzzling his right calf.

"Meow," it said again, looking up at him with its wide, adorable eyes.

_Cute…_ Kiku looked around for an owner, but deducted that it was probably a stray.

"You need a home?" he asked as he bent down to pet it. Thai was allergic to cats, and Hong Kong's fireworks might scare it, but maybe if he kept it in his room…

"Oh, you found my cat," Kiku shot up and found himself staring at a fairly tall, brown haired, green eyed man, wearing a rather sleepy expression.

"Ah, sorry. I was unaware that he was yours," he bowed slightly, but the other man just chuckled.

"No, it's okay. He likes you. Ah, I probably shouldn't have left the shop like that. I just got worried because he gets lost easily."

"No, I understand completely."

"Here," the man scooped up the cat and handed him to Kiku, "he likes you, so he can you bring him back for me?"

"But he likes you too…"

"Yeah, but I had to ignore him to deal with a customer, so he left. If your there, he might stay." He walked towards a near-by flower shop stuck in between a butcher's and a café. Passing by the café, Kiku was shocked to see Lovino's very distinctive curl in the back. To think, the man responsible for his current distress, sitting in one of the booths, having a latte, in broad day light. He didn't have to go through his brother or wait several weeks to catch him off guard. Nobody here knew him; he could just walk in, sit at his booth, and force the Italian to come with him…

"Are you coming?" the man ran a hand through his curled hair as he held the door open for Kiku. Inside the flower shop, the Japanese man could see even more cats, playing with some of the flowers.

"Yes." Kiku turned his back on his foe and followed the strange man into the store.

"Is it alright to have all these cats everywhere?" He asked, for there were indeed, cats everywhere. A few were playing in the window in between the flower pots on display, several more where sleeping in the flower beds, and even more were running around on the floors.

"Yeah, the owner thinks they're cute, so he doesn't mind. Besides they bring in a lot of the customers."

"Are they all yours then?"

"I guess. They sorta just follow me around, so I feed them and play with them and stuff." While they were talking, three of the cats running around managed to jump on the counter the man had walked behind and began nuzzling Kiku's arms, forcing him to put the first cat on the counter as well. "They seem to like you too."

"Well…I am a cat person."

"I could tell. Hey, I know I just met you and everything, but I have to run to the back for a bit. They get kinda lonely when I'm not around, and I don't really want him," he nodded to the first cat, "running off again. Would you mind watching them for me for a little bit?"

"It would be my pleasure." The man smiled and hurried off to the back.

As he was playing with the cats in this little flower shop, talking with the worker there about philosophy and the general state of being, he didn't even notice how one hour became another and eventually became five. When he got up to leave (or more accurately kicked out, as it was closing time), the man's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

Honda Kiku had been in many different stores in many different cities in many different countries as part of his job. Some were rather cute, some had interesting gimmicks, and others were plain, or scary, or just weird. None, however, interested him enough to warrant a return trip. Everything he needed for the Yakuza wasn't sold in stores anyway.

Still, Honda Kiku, Yakuza Boss who really shouldn't be anywhere near a flower shop, found himself turning to the young man, genuinely smiling, and saying,

"Of course I will be."

More surprising still, he actually meant it.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Mesa Ratona (Spanish) - **Coffee Table**  
**

**Klein - **little

**Danke - **thank you

**Sporetello Bancomat (Italian) - **The Hole in the Wall


	8. On Changing Rules and Netural Turf

**Hehe, sorry about that wait. I'll try to be better about it...**

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15: 12:32 AM. Kremlin Manor, Ivan's Office.**

"Those were his conditions?" Ivan asked, putting his chin on his hands.

"_Ja_, but I'm sure he'll let me come in no matter vhat," Gilbert said.

"Not necessary. I am confident Toris and Raivis can handle themselves. Besides I have different task for you."

"Vhat?" The albino slammed the table. "You can't! You can't let dem face the Yakuza alone!"

"They will not be facing the Yakuza, Gilbert," his boss said in that calm tone of his that put everyone on edge, "they will be facing the Italian's, or did you forget that already?"

"I…but…Matt…"

"What about him?"

The German froze. "Ve can't…just leave him in da hands of da Yakuza. It'll give dem too much of an edge."

"Do you think Vargas is stupid enough to launch an attack on a virtually unknown enemy with only Raivis and Toris? This meeting is about trust, and we need as much of his as we can get in order to get anywhere."

"I…still tink I should go vith dem."

"No. I am wanting you to break Natasha out. You are needed there. Toris and Raivis will be fine."

"But-" Ivan coughed, bringing his protests to a stop.

"You are not forgetting the terms on which I hired you, correct?" He swung his signature weapon, a water pipe, around while tapping one of the files on his desk.

"_Nein_…I remember…"

"Those terms do still apply, yes?"

"…_Ja_."

"Then why are you still here talking to me, instead of getting Toris ready for his date with Mr. Vargas? And preparing to prep Raivis when he gets back from school?"

Gilbert looked at him, defiance and hatred clear in his eyes, before they lowered to stare at the file still under his finger. He ended up just grinding his teeth and leaving the room to do what he was told.

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15: 12:45 AM. Police Headquarters, Temporary Headquarters.**

Yao was glaring, and that wasn't fair. Alfred had known the guy for what, an hour? Maybe? He had no reason to hate him yet. There was plenty of time for that later.

"_I'm_ not the one who's proposing an alliance between the two biggest crime families in the city," he said in his defense.

"No, but you _are_ the one who ordered your staff away, aru."

"I'm still here working with you, aren't I? This needs to be dealt with-"

"No, _Honda_ needs to be dealt with. If others want to take them out too, then I say let them, aru. It'll make our job easier."

"But then after you flitter on out of here, we'll have to deal with it!"

"That is none of my concern."

"Well it is mine. I'll send _my_ staff where ever-"

A shot rang through the air, the bullet embedding itself in the wall right between the two of them. Yong Soo looked up from where he was seated at Alfred's desk playing some video game to see a blonde man with a mean face and a gun standing in the door way.

"This the guy?" He asked.

"Yeah, this is the guy," Alfred replied.

The guy, who was more commonly known as Vash Zwingili, was Matt's partner in the homicide division. He was very level headed, but despite that had shot at more suspects then the rest of the force combined and was very anti-social. He also didn't trust anyone outside his sister and Matt, which is why Alfred asked for his help today to assist in finding the Canadian. He wasn't allowed to investigate without his partner with him at all times anymore, so he agreed.

"No discharging your weapon inside Headquarters Vash…" Arthur half-heartedly chastised as he walked by.

"Don't waste your time fighting. It's counterproductive," Vash stated, lowering his weapon.

Alfred put his hands up in a defeated manner. Yao crossed his arms over his chest and muttered something about crazy westerners. Yong Soo poked around at the things on Alfred's desk.

"Was there anything on Matt's desk?" the American asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Nothing helpful. An old man who was selling hot dogs outside, however, managed to remember seeing two Asian girls, and Matthew, getting into a car and heading southeast."

"You're not supposed to threaten civilians for information…"

"Southeast? That's a start," the Chinese man had walked over to a map pinned up on the far wall, "but it could be better, aru. Did he hear where they were going, or get a license plate?" Vash shook his head.

"So we split up," Alfred grabbed a nearby marker and drew a box of the southeast section of the city. Several more lines divided it into four parts. "I'll take section one. Vash, you handle section two. Yong Soo can have section three, and that leaves Yao with section four."

"Why can't I have section one, aru?"

"Because I'm always number one."

"I'd rather not have section two," Vash complained. "Too many people have met me in section two."

"Fine, you and Yong Soo can switch."

"I can't have section two. Two's my unlucky number. Who's Feliks?" He asked, holding up a file with a picture of a blonde man clipped to the front.

"D-don't go through other people's stuff!" Alfred rushed over, snatched the file from his hand, and shoved it into one of the drawers.

"You shouldn't be distracted with solved, unrelated cases at the moment," Vash commented. "You're brother's life may depend on it."

"I know that! I wasn't looking at it and it's kinda related, but can we please-"

"How is this related to the Yakuza and their whereabouts?" Yao asked. Somewhere during their conversation he had snatched the file from the drawer and was looking through it.

"It's not, but it's related to the Russians, and I was looking over it before all of this, so-"

"It doesn't mention mafia anywhere in here, aru."

"And it's solved. Give it up Jones, I caught the man myself."

"Toris is innocent, but that's not the point right now," he snatched the file back from Yao and locked it in the drawer this time. "We need to find my brother. Yao can have two, Yong Soo can have four, and Vash can have three. Is everybody happy now?"

"I'd rather have one, aru."

"I get one. I'm always number one. Anymore complaints?" A quick look around the room revealed none. "Alright team, move out!"

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15: 1:30 PM. Main Street.**

Half of Main Street was in Section four, so Alfred agreed to show Yong Soo around a bit since he was still new to the city. That is, if by 'show him around,' he really meant 'drop him off in the middle of the street and let the Korean figure everything else out for himself.'

Which was just fine with Yong Soo, as he'd figured out the layout of any new city he and Yao had been assigned to easier by simply wandering around it by himself and getting a general feel for things. By now though he was hungry, and since nobody mentioned anyplace for him to pick up food, he just walked into the nearest place that smelled delicious, which happened to be a little place called Mesa Ratona.

As he was walking in, he accidently bumped into one of the patrons walking out, a shorter man with bright green eyes, dark brown hair, a flyaway curl that reminded him of his own, and a scowl on his face. He looked familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him remember where he had seen his face before.

"Whoops, sorry!" the Korean apologized. The man just glared at him, muttered something under his breath in Italian, and continued on his way.

"_Hola!_" a man behind the counter greeted. "I haven't seen your face around…are you new?"

"Yeah, I just came to town today…I'm so hungry though…"

"Don't worry, Yong Soo," a familiar female voice said at a table off to the right, "Antonio's one of the best chefs in the city."

"I'm not that good," the man called Antonio sheepishly admitted, "but if you're friends with Miss Héderváry, then I can you something on the house." He disappeared back into the kitchen with a bright smile.

"So," Elizaveta smiled as Yong Soo slipped into the seat across from her, "what brings you here? Not shirking duties on the first day I hope."

"We're looking for Williams. I've got this part of the city. What about you? Didn't you already eat lunch?"

"Yes, but Antonio's a friend of Francis's and he hears a lot of things, so he's a pretty good informant. I'm still looking for the Russians, don't worry."

"This place is run by the mob?" he asked excitedly. Elizaveta laughed.

"No no, it's neutral territory."

"What do you mean? How can Antonio hear stuff if the mob doesn't stop by?"

"Never said that…" Just then, a man who looked eerily similar to the one that just left, except his curl was facing the other way and his eyes were brown, ran through the door and straight for the counter, crying "Ve, Antonio! Antonio! I need to talk to you!"

"See him?" Elizaveta nodded in his direction as Antonio emerged from the kitchen and talked quietly with the man.

"What about him?"

"That's Feliciano Vargas, brother to the Italian mob boss Lovino Vargas. Feli comes here a lot."

"So he's friends with Antonio?"

"Yup, but Antonio doesn't know who he is, so Feli lets things slip while talking to him, thinking it doesn't matter because Antonio doesn't know what it means, and he doesn't, but he will tell us what he said, and it _does _mean something to us."

"Why got through all that? You can arrest him now can't you?"

"Yeah, but that would cause problems for Antonio, and no one wants that. Like I said, this is neutral ground. I won't arrest him and he won't shot me, of course Feli probably wouldn't shot me if I met him outside of the café, but still."

"But…" at that moment, Feliciano walked by their table and spotted Elizaveta.

"Eli!"

"Veni!"

Yong Soo was shocked to see them hug like two long lost friends.

"What brings you here, Veni? I haven't seen you in a while."

"Oh, just wanted some coffee, but Antonio's all out. What about you?"

"Looking for some of Ivan's people. Haven't seen any around have you?"

"No! Too scary! I hope you find them soon! Oh, who's your new friend?"

"He's visiting from Korea. Just came to town today."

"Hi!" Feliciano caught him in a tight hug. "My name's Veneziano Italia! It's nice to meet you, I love making new friends!"

"Nice to meet you too."

"Oh, I gotta go, but I hope I'll see you two around! Tell Francis and Ludwig I said hi!" The Italian waved at them before running out the door.

"He's…not what I expected…"

"Very few people in this town actually are."

"He gave a false name?"

"Which is why Antonio is blissfully ignorant. He usually doesn't lie like that though…"

"Here you go!" Antonio chose that moment to appear with some kind of Spanish rice dish for Yong Soo. "Sorry it took so long."

"Hey Antonio," Elizaveta asked as Yong Soo devoured his food, "What did Veni want?"

"Oh, he just wanted some coffee, but I'm all out. Shame really, I like it when he sticks around."

"Yeah it is. Can I get a refill please?"

"Sure!" He grabbed her empty cup and came back a few seconds later with it full to the brim with coffee.

"Thanks, you're the best. By the way, you haven't seen Gilbert recently have you?"

His eyes gained an icy layer as a dark atmosphere descended on their conversation. "No…I haven't. What has he done this time?"

"You know Gilbert. I just want to talk to him though. This coffee is delicious by the way. Shame Veni couldn't have some…"

"Yes…excuse me, I'm needed in the back for a bit." With that he slipped away and the tension in the air left with him.

"That was…weird."

"Yeah…I wonder what Gilbert was doing here?"

"Ludwig said he was with Lovino, right?" Yong Soo asked, trying to remember the debriefing from earlier.

"Exactly…why is Antonio covering up?" She pulled out her phone and started pressing the buttons at a lightning speed.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Ludwig. He's trying to trace Gilbert's steps. And Francis. He'll want to know where Feli is."

"Antonio does hear a lot of things…wonder if he knows where Honda is."

"He might, you can always ask him."

She nodded to Antonio, who was back behind the counter, so Yong Soo got up and walked over to him.

"How was the food?" the Spaniard asked, iciness from before long gone.

"Delicious. Say, I was wondering, you haven't seen a Japanese man around here have you? Short black hair, brown eyes…he's a friend of mine, so I wanted to meet up with him."

"Hm…can't say I have. Not in the café at least…oh! There was a guy like that outside a few hours ago. Don't know where he went to though."

"Thank you very much. If you do see him, tell him I said hi."

"Of course!" Yong Soo went back to the table.

"Any luck?" Elizaveta asked as soon as he sat down.

"He was here, but he's long gone now. Honda never stays in the same place for too long. Might as well just explore the rest of the city."

"You can always come with me. I'm going to meet up with Ludwig so we can look for known informants together. Who knows what you might find?"

"…I could, I guess. Yao might get mad though."

"Not if you find something." She winked at him as they stood up and left the café together.

* * *

**Translation Corner:**

**Ja -** Yes**  
**

**Nein **- No**  
**

**Mesa Ratona **- Coffee Table**  
**

**Hola - **Hello**  
**


	9. Childhood and a City of Dreams

**Whoa hey, it's been a while hasn't it...s-sorry about that...please don't hit me like that...**

**I've decided to get rid of the accents, because they got annoying to write. I may end up going back and fixing them in previous chapters someday too.  
**

**I hope you enjoy it anyway. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner...  
**

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15: 1:35 PM. Hetalia High School, Room 115.**

Raivis was pretty sure he wasn't like normal kids his age. For starters, normal kids got to pick and choose their own friends, as opposed to having their legal guardian 'suggest' friends for them ("_The police chief's little brother is transferring into your class today isn't he? I think should hang out with him…"_). Most normal kids disliked school, and were thrilled whenever someone came to take them out early for whatever reason. Raivis, on the other hand, loved school and shuddered whenever Toris (or sometimes Eduard, or in very rare and very frightening instances, Gilbert) came to take him home early. Of course, he was also pretty sure normal kids weren't active members in the Russian Mafia. In fact he was positive of that, considering he knew almost every member of the Russian Mafia.

He was in algebra, doing the problems on the board with his best friend, Peter Kirkland, when the call came from the front office.

"Raivis," the teacher called out, "Toris is here to take you home." Technically, Ivan was his legal guardian now, but because you can't put a mob boss's name down on paper as such without arousing suspicion or getting into heaps of trouble, they used Toris's name. Other than himself, Toris was the least known member of their household. "Please gather your things and head down to the office."

"Aw man, lucky!" Peter whispered as he started packing his stuff, "I would _kill_ to get out of class right now…" Raivis thought it was best not to mention that that might just be what he had to go do.

Peter Kirkland was the kid brother of Chief of Police, Arthur Kirkland. At twelve years old, he was a bit young to be in high school with Raivis, but he was exceptionally smart and had some driving need to upstage his brother, so he managed to skip a few grades. Raivis decided to get to know Peter better at a suggestion from Ivan, and Peter wanted to befriend Raivis after Arthur told him to stay away, so they became close rather quickly. He knew he shouldn't get attached to him, since his primary mission now and days was to 'keep an eye on the Kirkland kid until we can use him,' but he couldn't help it if he was his only real friend outside the mafia, and because of that, was grateful that Arthur failed to mention to Peter his alleged criminal connections.

He quickly left the classroom and went down to the office to meet Toris, who was currently talking to one of the receptionists and signing the necessary forms to allow him to leave school now. Raivis took a seat next to a blue eyed, silver haired kid that he thinks is in his history class. As soon as he's seated, the kid looks away and plays with the hem of his shirt.

The other receptionist hung up the phone she was talking on and turned to face the other kid. "Okay, your brother said it's fine." He nodded before getting up and leaving the building. Raivis peeked out the window that faced the parking lot in time to see him getting into a black car with several men in black suits, wearing sunglasses and fedoras.

Before he could think anything of it, Toris had walked over and said, "Are you ready to go?" Raivis nodded and they proceeded to leave as well.

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15. 1:55 PM. Back Alley.**

Lovino stared down his cell phone. Those idiots were supposed to contact him twenty minutes ago. How long could it take to get a kid out of school?

Suddenly his phone vibrated once, indicating he just received a text message from someone named Muffin. A quick flip of his phone revealed that the text was blank. _Good, that means nothing went wrong_.

The Italian shoved the phone back in his pocket and took a quick look around to see who was there. He was about to make a break for it when he saw Francis Bonnefoy of all people loitering around not too far away from where Lovino was hiding. _God damnit._

As if life liked to just spite him, Feliciano decided at that moment to run down the same street shouting, "_Fratello_!" as loud as he could. Needless to say, he bumped right into Francis.

"Francis_ amico_!" he screeched and hugged the man who was currently trying to land his brother in jail and stop his family's business.

"_Petite _Feli!" he hugged him back just a fiercely. Lovino always hated that bastard.

Roma Vargas, despite what several people have claimed, was not an idiot. He was well aware that exposing his young grandsons to the violence that inevitably went with his lifestyle was very bad for them. As such, he couldn't trust any of his men to take care of them while he was out on a job, despite how much he trusted each of them with his life. Instead he opted to hire someone outside of the family to take care of his little _bambinos. _It was a risky move, as it left him quite vulnerable if his new babysitter decide to betray his trust and sell out the family, but Roma was exceptionally good at reading people, and felt confident that he would pick the right person. That person was Francis Bonnefoy.

Francis never warmed up to Lovino, as Lovino had never warmed up to him, but was taken with Feliciano right away, and so agreed to keep silent about the family while he was under their protection, and in return got a free ride all the way through college. After school he decided to clear his conscious by joining the police force, and when Alfred started up his special task force, well who better to help him go after the Italian Mob then one of their own? Of course, no one besides Ludwig knew about his connection with the mob, but that was another matter. Francis always _just_ managed to let Roma and Feliciano slip through his fingers, still grateful for everything they'd done for him, causing some people (Arthur) to question his loyalty/skill, but after Roma's death, he's been going all out to catch Lovino. Feli still manages to always escape somehow.

Lovino still hated the guy though.

And now how was he supposed to talk to Feliciano?

"Say, _mon petite_ Feli, you haven't seen Lovi around have you?" Francis asked once all the pleasantries were done.

"Wow, I was about to ask you the same thing!" Lovino face-palmed, "I haven't seen him since this morning…"

"Oh? Hehasn't asked you to meet him anywhere?" the Frenchman asked, stroking his hair.

"No, I was kinda in a hurry when I last saw him…"

"Well, I will assist my favorite _petite Italien_!"

"Really? You'll help me find _Fratello_? How thoughtful of you!" Lovino face-palmed again. If his brother got any stupider, he'd be going backwards.

What the mob boss really needed right now was a way to distract the French-bastard, and what better way for a mob boss to do that then call on the help of henchmen? Lovino may have hated the mafia life he was tossed into, but it was hard to dislike having an army of skilled and highly trained men at you beck and call. A quick text to number six on his speed dial, and about ten seconds later, shots rang out in the alley where Francis and Feliciano were.

Francis immediately spun around at drew his weapon, and Feliciano, predictably, ran in the opposite direction, namely right past where Lovino was hiding.

"_Fratello_! I've been looking for you! Francis _amico_ has too and-"

"I know, and I told you not to talk to him!" Before he could protest, Lovino grabbed his brother's wrist and dragged him away from the gunfight. "C'mon, we're meeting with some friends tonight…"

**

* * *

Wednesday, October 15. 2:15 PM. 5****th**** Street.**

V was frustrated with herself. Everyone in the organization knew that _Oyabun_ liked to wander about whatever town they were in to map out the area, and they also knew that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. That didn't stop her, Mei, and Hong Kong from tailing him on those days.

They had made a sort of game out of it: whoever is still tailing him by the time he comes back wins. V is the undisputed champion of this game, but Hong Kong and Mei have been getting better, or maybe she was just slacking.

Hong was busy guarding that Canadian today, so it was just her and Mei. She knew Mei had lost sight of him hours ago, but V had only lost him when he hit Main Street. He had taken and unexpected turn, and due to the strangeness of being in a new city, she had gotten turned around. She got turned around even more when she caught sight of Wang Yao on the street and fled in the opposite direction.

Which was stupid, because she was in disguise anyway so Yao wouldn't have recognized her even if it _was _actually him. And now she was hopelessly lost. Perfect.

In her fit of self-loathing, she accidently bumped into a random stranger on the street and fell down. More precisely, she realized as she stepped back and got a good look at him, she bumped into a not-so-stranger.

"Sorry!" Jones exclaimed as he helped to pull her to her feet. "Are you okay? You hit the ground pretty hard there…"

V was a trained assassin employed by one of the deadliest men in the world. A little tumble to the ground wasn't going to hurt her. She showed him as much by batting his hand away and getting up on her own.

"Sorry about that," he blushed as scratched the back of his neck, "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going…my name's Alfred. Alfred Jones."

He held out his hand, but she pointedly ignored it.

"This is usually the part where you tell me your name…"

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Or not…" he lowered his hand, "Can you speak English?" The glare intensified. "Just asking, I mean you aren't saying anything…you look a little familiar though. Have we met before?"

Her eyes widened and she quickly looked away from him. What if he managed to recognize her from this morning? She'd have to fight him off, which would no doubt draw a crowd, and what if his cronies were nearby as well? As skilled as she was, if all five of them came at her at once, she wouldn't be able to take them down, and she was not in the mood to be arrested on day one.

"No, I guess not. I would remember meeting someone as cute as you, uh, I mean…" he coughed awkwardly and blushed again, but this time she was pretty sure she was blushing too. "I am sorry, about knocking you over, I mean. Let me make it up to you somehow. How about-" he was interrupted by a beeping sound, which turned out to be his cell phone. He quickly scanned the text he just got before turning back to her.

"Sorry, I've got to go, but…wait here!" He ran off, but before V could make up her mind about ditching him or not, he returned with a pink rose. "It's not much…but, if I see you again, I'll make it up to you some other way. I promise." He handed her the rose, smiled, and turned to walk away, but stopped when she grabbed his sleeve."

Now that V had his attention though, she was at a loss of what to do with it. "Viet." She croaked out.

"What?"

"If we meet again…you can call me Viet." She let go and refused to meet his eyes as she turned around and bolted.

That wasn't her real name, of course. To be honest, V didn't remember her real name, and even if she did, she would never give it to him of all people. She didn't know why she even bothered to give him a false name, just that she didn't want him to forget her…which was a completely ridiculous notion. It would be best for her if he did forget this meaningless encounter. He was a _cop_. She kidnapped his brother. They were enemies.

She stopped in an alleyway to catch her breath. Slowly she brought the flower to her nose and sniffed it, the scent reminding her of another rose given to her by a young Japanese man with a kind smile so long ago…

She really did like roses.

* * *

**So btw, this will end up having America/Vietnam as a pairing. -_-U And either Greece/Japan or Taiwan/Japan, I haven't decided yet. Maybe...both? *probably not***


End file.
